Return To The Knight
by AlfieLuv
Summary: Bruce is plagued by nightmares after an encounter with the Mad Hatter
1. Default Chapter

Title: Return To The Knight  
  
Author: Onyx  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Disclaimer: Batman/Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson/Robin, and other related characters belong to DC/WB. Therefore, I don't hold any claim to them... although, I wish I could. [But, don't we all? ;-)]  
  
Author's Note: I would like to give a hearty thanks to Dark Jester, who not only helped me with spelling and grammar, but also wrote in Joker's part in chapters three and seven. Thanks a bunch DJ, you are the BEST!  
  
Also, this story, originally titled: Dreams End, was posted in the B:TAS section of FF.N. Since it was taken down, I changed a couple of lines in the story, and grouped chapters 1-4 together and 5-9 together. So, for those of you who may have read it, I hope you enjoy a second reading, and for those of you who haven't read it yet, enjoy!  
  
Summary: A sequel to "Perchance to Dream". Bruce goes home to reality.  
  
Notes: For anyone who has not yet seen the episode, "Perchance to Dream", here is a quick summery to catch you up: After chasing some bad guys, Batman is knocked unconscious and wakes up back at the Manor to find his parents still alive, that he is engaged to Selina Kyle, and has never been Batman. He is living his greatest dream. Which is where the problem comes in... It's too good to be real. His suspicions are confirmed when he picks up one of the newspapers and can't read it (since reading and dreaming take place on different sides of the brain.). He sets out to find The Batman in one of Gotham's old bell towers, and when Bruce unmasks him, it's the Mad Hatter. Despite all the dream could give him, Bruce refuses to live a lie, and throws himself off the tower to wake himself up... to return to being the Dark Knight.  
  
RETURN TO THE KNIGHT  
  
CHAPTER ONE  
  
Alfred Pennyworth sat in the large black chair in front of the Batcomputer, worry evident on his usually calm features. It was nearly dawn and Batman hadn't returned or contacted Alfred at the appointed time. What was more, when Alfred tried contacting him nearly two hours ago, he got nothing. Even the tracking device on the Batmobile had been turned off. With no means of communication, or a way of finding Batman, all Alfred could do was sit, wait, and hope.  
  
"Where is he?" Alfred muttered to himself for the hundredth time. The concern that had laced his voice earlier was turning to panic. It wasn't like Bruce to terminate all contact. "If anything has happened to him..."  
  
At that moment, as if answering Alfred's silent prayer, the Batmobile made its way along the narrow, winding path of the cave and came to a stop. Alfred stood, immediately, and jogged over to the sleek, black car. The roof slid forward and Batman leapt out.  
  
"Master Bruce! I've been trying to contact you for hours! Are you all right?! Where have you been?!"  
  
"I wanted to be alone," Batman said coldly as he pushed past the older man.  
  
"With all due respect, Sir, that is no excuse for leaving me here worried sick! You could have at least contacted me at the appointed time. I was beginning to think something happened to you."  
  
Batman noticeably winced, then continued on his way to the costume vault where he removed his cape, cowl, and utility belt and was changing into his civilian clothes.  
  
"Master Bruce, are you alright?"  
  
Although the older man wore the label of a butler, he was a far cry from it in Bruce Wayne and Batman's world. And it was at times like these, that Alfred Pennyworth shed the butler's skin and dawned that of a father figure. *Something happened out there tonight,* Alfred thought. *Something terrible.*  
  
"Bruce?"  
  
Bruce froze in place. The way Alfred had just said his name. So calmly, full of concern and love. He sounded just like... *Father*. And then, something inside Bruce snapped. He came to life, slamming the vault door shut, causing Alfred to jump. "I'm fine, alright?! Will you just leave me the hell alone!" Through his anger and frustration, Bruce could see the hurt wash over Alfred's face. Suddenly, the anger drifted away, and Bruce took a deep breath, pushing all other feelings aside except for the overwhelming sense of guilt that was rapidly creeping up behind him. "Alfred...I--"  
  
Alfred quickly concealed the hurt and turned his features to stone. "I do apologize, SIR," he responded stiffly. "I did not realize I was not allowed to concern myself with your well-being. I shall refrain from doing so in the future." And with that, Alfred turned on his heels and left the cave.  
  
Bruce closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. He walked over to the computer and sank down in the chair - - which, he noted, was warm. *Alfred must have been sitting here for hours waiting to hear from me.* Taking a deep breath, Bruce pushed the thought aside and set to work updating his file on Jervis Tetch, aka: The Mad Hatter.  
  
This had been the second time Batman had gone up against Tetch. The first time had been when Tetch had created mind controlling microchips and became the Mad Hatter, kidnapping a young woman named Alice, whom he was infatuated with. But he had given up on Alice. He wanted to go after Batman... to get the Dark Knight out of his way, however possible.  
  
*I was willing to give you any life you wanted... Just to keep you out of MINE!* Tetch had screamed at him only hours ago.  
  
Bruce slammed his fists down on the computer. The sound of flesh and bone coming into solid contact with metal echoed throughout the cave, stirring its other inhabitants. "Damn him! Why... Why of all things did he have to do THIS?! Why did he have to bring back that pain?!" *I had them...Oh, God, I had them...* Bruce leaned back in the chair and glared at the file photo of Tetch.  
  
  
  
CHAPTER TWO  
  
"Bruce? Hey, Bruce, rise and shine." Dick Grayson gently shook the shoulder of his adoptive father and mentor, rousing him from sleep.  
  
Bruce opened his eyes and glanced up into the familiar face of his ward. "Dick?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
"It's Friday...I'm home for the weekend...Remember?"  
  
Bruce shook the remaining effects of sleep away as he rubbed his face and yawned. "Oh, right. Sorry, Dick. I forgot." Standing, Bruce stretched, then looked down at his wrist and noticed he didn't have his watch on. "What time is it?"  
  
Dick glanced down at his own wrist. "Umm, little after five."  
  
*Five?! I slept for twelve hours?!* Bruce blinked a few times. It seemed as if he'd only dosed for a few minutes. Felt like it, too.  
  
"You alright?" Dick asked concerned.  
  
Bruce nodded. "Yes. I just wasn't expecting to sleep for so long."  
  
Dick shrugged. "Musta been tired. You have been goin' at it pretty hard for the last two weeks."  
  
As Bruce stepped away from the computer, Dick noticed the picture of the Mad Hatter. "And I take it last night was no picnic in Wonderland?"  
  
Bruce turned and, without a word, shut the system down. "Have you had dinner?" He deliberately tried to change the subject.  
  
Dick was momentarily caught off guard by the question. "Er...no. I was going to ask Alfred for a sandwich when I got in, but....Is he alright?"  
  
There was a long pause.  
  
"Bruce?"  
  
Bruce closed his eyes and shook his head. "No. Alfred and I...I had a...bad night, last night, and Alfred took the brunt of it when I got back."  
  
"What happened?" Dick asked, curious.  
  
"Bruce sighed. "I yelled at him."  
  
Dick stared at Bruce as if he'd grown another head.  
  
"I didn't mean to," Bruce added quickly, seeing Dick's reaction.  
  
"And I take it he doesn't know that." Dick crossed his arms and leaned back against the computer console.  
  
"He stormed out of here before I could apologize."  
  
"Smooth."  
  
Bruce glared at his 'son'.  
  
Dick looked down at his feet. "Sorry."  
  
There was a soft click from up above, followed by the tapping of shoes on stone. Bruce and Dick glanced up to see Alfred descending the stairs with a covered silver tray. "Forgive the lateness, Sir's. I was momentarily detained by a rather nasty spot on one of the front windows." Alfred set the tray down and lifted the cover revealing two plates of guava-glazed chicken, monfongo, spiced date cake with orange glaze, and two tall glasses of milk.  
  
Dick did everything he could not to drool all over the floor. Alfred's cooking was something Dick missed terribly when at the college. "Wow. Thanks, Alfred!"  
  
Alfred nodded to Dick and gave him a weary smile then glanced at Bruce before turning to leave. Dick shot Bruce a look and tipped his head in Alfred's direction.  
  
Bruce took a deep breath and cleared his throat. "Aah, Alfred?"  
  
The butler stopped just before the stairs, but did not turn around. "Sir?"  
  
Bruce walked over to the older man and stood beside him. "Look...Last night I--"  
  
A loud beeping noise came from the computer console, cutting Bruce off. Both he and Alfred turned in it's direction and Bruce went over, flipping a small switch. "Yes?"  
  
"Batman? It's Jim. We've got a problem. Jervis Tetch just broke out of Arkham about an hour ago. One guard is dead form an explosion, two others severely wounded. We followed his trail five miles west of the hospital before we lost it. I have officers at the warehouse you captured him in last night, but they've turned up nothing. We could really use your help, my friend."  
  
"You're at the Asylum?"  
  
"Yes, for about another twenty minutes."  
  
"I'm on my way."  
  
  
  
CHAPTER THREE  
  
The Batmobile cruised swiftly along the dark road scattering fallen leaves and parting the low mist. The barren trees, set on either side of the road, danced in the light that lay just ahead. Gotham City.  
  
Robin sat in the passenger seat, listening to the low ominous roar of the engine. It was actually quite a peaceful sound. One he'd gotten used to, and sometimes, had fallen asleep to during his first years as Robin, when he and Batman had had a late night. But, tonight, a squeaky crackling sound coming from the driver's side was disturbing the peace. He looked over and noticed Batman's hands flexing on the wheel.  
  
"You grip that wheel any tighter, Bruce, and you'll bend it."  
  
The white slits of Batman's cowl narrowed in response and Robin decided it best not to say anything else. If there was one thing he learned over the years, it was to keep your mouth shut when Batman was in one of his moods.  
  
* * *  
  
"We got nothin' Commish," Harvey Bullock said as he chewed on a toothpick. "Wherever he went', it ain't anywhere around here."  
  
Gordon shook his head. "Damn. What I'd like to know is who in the hell broke him out of there!"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Urgh!" Jim Gordon turned to the shadows clutching his chest. "Even after all these years you still can't find it in yourself to take pity on an old man's heart?"  
  
"After all these years, I would think you'd be used to it," Batman responded, emerging into the light with Robin in tow. Batman gave a quick nod to Bullock, who returned the gesture and moved off to assist the other officers.  
  
Gordon chuckled then nodded a hello to Robin. "I think it's going to be a long night my friends."  
  
"You said 'who'?" Batman asked, getting back to the situation at hand.  
  
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Tetch's cell. The explosion occurred from the outside. We think someone's helping him."  
  
"Any idea who it might be?"  
  
"No. But there's someone inside who's been asking for you."  
  
Batman lifted a brow under his cowl and glanced over at the asylum. Gordon walked through the gates, signaling for Batman and Robin to follow.  
  
Inside the building, echoing screams and moans could be heard. There was a muffled thumping noise coming from one of the cells overhead, and a dripping sound, probably water from a leaky pipe. The lights were dimmed, giving the long hallway a dark gray-green tint, and a mild musty smell hung in the air. Robin couldn't help shuddering. It wasn't often he came here with Batman, and each time he remembered why.  
  
Gordon stopped just outside one of the cells and an intern walked over and unlocked the door. Gordon put his hand out toward the room. As Batman walked over, the intern backed away, eyes wide.   
  
Stepping into the cell, Batman saw a desk lamp sitting on a small metal table that was bolted to the floor. The position of the shade on the lamp left the two back corners of the cell in total darkness. Batman motioned for Robin to stay behind him, then stood in silence and waited. After a moment, there was a low shuffle in the right hand corner and the Joker stepped into the light.  
  
"You wanted to talk to me," Batman stated calmly. Already the tension in the room thickened, making him dizzy with anger, frustration... and strangely enough, pity.  
  
The Joker tilted his head backwards and pressed his lips and fingers together, smiling in the dim light. He nodded once and blinked slowly. "That's right, dearest."  
  
Silence collapsed around them immediately afterward, as though Joker was waiting for the vigilante to say something.  
  
He didn't.  
  
"Fine! Be all dark and gruesome! See if I care!" Joker pulled out a chair and threw himself down into it, folding his legs under him instead of putting his feet on the ground. "I just thought you might want a little hint about who took your friend."  
  
Batman's eyeslits narrowed as he approached the table.  
  
"What information do you have?"  
  
"What do I get out of it?"  
  
"Joker," the Dark Knight growled. "Don't make me have to ask you, again."  
  
Joker pouted and batted his eyes... and then rolled them afterward. "You're just no fun at all! And since I'm feeling generous, I'll clue you in. It's somebody who's just DYING to catch you on film." He made his hands into the shape of an old camera and then started turning his right hand in a circle while squinting through an invisible hole.  
  
Batman clenched his fists, and considered questioning Joker further, but changed his mind when better sense caught him. That was as much help as the Clown Prince was going to be... he could feel it.  
  
CHAPTER FOUR  
  
"Dying to catch you on film?" Robin asked as Batman drove the car back to the cave.  
  
Batman nodded.  
  
"Hmmm. I don't ever remember going up against Tim Burton's evil twin," Robin added with a small grin.  
  
Batman didn't respond. He was too deep in thought. *Why would the Joker want to help me? What could he possibly have to gain from it?* Batman clenched his fists on the steering wheel again as his mind took on every angle of the situation.  
  
"He has to have a very good reason," Batman thought aloud.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"The Joker. He doesn't do favors unless he gets something out of it."  
  
"Especially not for us," Robin added, crossing his arms and sliding further down in the seat. "Maybe he wants to get Tetch back at Arkham? He's used him before. Maybe the Joker's thinking he might need him again. Like that time he sabotaged the Laff Off?"  
  
"Hmmm...Maybe......"  
  
Batman pushed a small red button on the console of the Batmobile. Up ahead the stone face dropped to a bridge and Batman navigated the car along the winding path until they reached the turn-pad in the heart of the cave.  
  
The roof of the car slid forward. "I want you to go through the criminal files. Look up any connections you can find between Tetch and the Joker. Also look up any outside connections Tetch my have. Anything to do with film," Batman ordered as he leapt out of the car.  
  
"W-wait," Robin called after him, as he leapt out the other side. "Where are you goin'?"  
  
"I have something I have to take care of. I want those files by the time I get back." That said, Batman disappeared into the shadows.  
  
***  
  
The grandfather clock clicked open and Bruce Wayne emerged into the study. He could hear the howling winds outside the massive windows, and the tree branches softly scraping against the panes. A soft orange glow loomed out in the hallway followed by crackling. Bruce followed the noise and light into the den, where he saw a fire lit in the fireplace, a tray of tea sitting on the table, and Alfred Pennyworth asleep on the couch.  
  
Bruce smiled to himself. To see Alfred, still in dress uniform, slouched on the massive piece of furniture, and limbs hanging over the edges, was quite amusing.  
  
Bruce quietly walked into the room and retrieved a blanket from the back of one of the chairs. After shaking it open, he walked over to Alfred, and draped it over him. Alfred stirred and woke, startled to find Bruce leaning over him.  
  
"Hey," Bruce whispered.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
After situating the blanket, Bruce cleared his throat. "I, ah......You fell asleep."  
  
Alfred looked down at the throw covering his body. "Thank you, Sir."  
  
Bruce sat down next to his old friend. "You didn't get much sleep this morning, did you?"  
  
Alfred pushed the blanket down onto his lap and stared at Bruce, not answering. Bruce stared back, catching the answer in Alfred's eyes. It clearly said 'no'.  
  
Letting out a heavy sigh, Bruce fell back into the couch and closed his eyes. He could feel Alfred watching him. Waiting.  
  
*Why is it such a hard thing to say?* Bruce wondered. *Why should I even have to say it? Alfred knows. Doesn't he? Maybe. But still....It should be said. Just say it, you idiot! Say it!*  
  
Bruce took another deep breath, and without opening his eyes, spoke. "I'm sorry, Alfred. I-I didn't mean what I said to you. It's just....Last night...." Shaking his head, Bruce stood and walked over to the window and gazed up at the large full moon that hung in the sky.  
  
"I fell into one of Tetch's traps last night," Bruce began, never taking his eyes off the moon. "He hooked me up to some kind of REM machine, designed to induce specific wave patterns in the sleeper's brain." Bruce turned to face Alfred, who was watching and listening to Bruce intently. "Inside the dream, I woke up back here. At first, things seemed normal. But....You didn't know who Robin was. And then you mentioned something about Selena Kyle and me being...engaged...." Bruce shook his head and turned back to the window. "Later that morning, I went to the study....to go down to the cave, and the clock entrance didn't work. You had no idea what the Batcave was, or that one even existed. Nothing made sense. I thought you were playing some kind of joke on me until....."  
  
"Until..." Alfred urged, rising from the couch and walking over to Bruce.  
  
"Until they were there."  
  
"They?" Alfred asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"My parents," Bruce answered, barely above a whisper.  
  
He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to the cool glass, his parents' faces burning into the backs of his eyelids. A warm, gentle, and familiar hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality. He turned his head to see Alfred standing beside him, concern etched on every inch of his face. "They were REAL, Alfred. As real as you are to me, right now. I can still feel the fabric of my father's shirt in my hands. Still smell the perfume my mother was wearing when I ran passed her. And....And my father's hand on my face...." Bruce reached up and touched his own face where his father had touched him in the dream. "I HAD them, Alfred. I had them back....Just as they would be now if....If....Oh, God...."  
  
"Bruce..."  
  
"They were ALIVE! And I ran passed them without even saying good-bye! The one chance I finally had!" Bruce's voice shook ever so slightly and Alfred could see tears forming in his eyes. "All these years! All I've ever wanted was to say good-bye instead of having them ripped away from me, screaming! And I couldn't do it! I couldn't....I....couldn't..."  
  
Without a word, Alfred drew Bruce into his arms and held him close. After a moment of hesitation, Bruce returned the embrace and rested his head on Alfred's shoulder, grateful for the support.  
  
"I know how you feel, Bruce. Believe it or not, I do. There isn't a day that goes by I don't miss them and wish..." Alfred paused, steadying his voice. "Wish that the Godless bastard who took them from us was brought to justice. Before you, they were my dearest friends. They were my family. My heart bleeds for them just as yours does." Alfred paused, overwhelmed by the feelings brought back to him from the memories. "I don't know what the afterlife brings, Bruce. But I do know, wherever they are, they love you, and if you speak to them, they will hear you."  
  
Bruce closed his eyes and smiled, hugging Alfred a fraction tighter. "I don't know what I would do without you, old friend."  
  
"Probably suffocate under a mountain of dirty laundry, or starve to death. I've often contemplated which would get you first."  
  
Bruce chuckled and regretfully pulled out of the warm embrace to look into the kind brown eyes of his surrogate father. "Thank you. For everything."  
  
Alfred smiled and straightened Bruce's shirt. "I shall always be here for you, my boy. Nothing will ever change that." 


	2. Return To The Knight Part 2

CHAPTER FIVE  
  
Alfred heard the sporadic tapping of the keyboard from the top of the steps as he descended into the cave carrying with him a tray of tea and pound cake.  
  
"Shit!" Dick slammed his fist down on the console.  
  
"Master, Dick! Watch your language, young man!"  
  
Dick startled at the exasperated voice and turned to see Alfred staring at him with a look of reproach. "Sorry, Alfred. I didn't hear you come down."  
  
"Obviously." Alfred set the tray down on the table next to the computer and walked over to his young charge. "Am I to assume, from your rather colorful metaphor, you have not found the outside connection?"  
  
"Bruce filled you in, huh?"  
  
"Indeed he did."  
  
Dick looked around. "Where is he anyway?"  
  
"He will be down momentarily." After leaving the den, and collecting the tea and cake from the kitchen, Alfred noticed Bruce putting his coat on and heading out the back patio doors. There was no question in Alfred's mind that Bruce was going to visit his parents' memorial.  
  
"Well, so far, I haven't found any other connections between the Joker and Tetch other than the time the Joker used Tetch's microchips for the Laff Off," Dick explained. "And as far as an outside connection goes...."  
  
"What was it, exactly, the Joker told Batman?"  
  
"Umm." Dick paused for a moment. "He said....'It's someone who's just dying to catch you on film.'"  
  
Alfred raised his eyebrow and tapped his chin with his index finger. After a few moments, he turned back to Dick. "Correct me if I am wrong, young Sir, but the person you are looking for is someone who ....either....works for the Mad Hatter...or needs him for a specific reason. And, whoever it is...is someone the Joker must obviously know himself and knows he or she has a connection to Batman?  
  
"Yeah." Dick steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. "Film? That's the only thing we have to go on. Who would want to film Batman? And why? The who could be anybody and the why...Well, maybe they're hoping to find out his identity or something. But that still doesn't narrow down the search. What bad guy wouldn't want Batman's identity?"  
  
Bruce's earlier words echoed in Alfred's mind. *He hooked me up to some kind of REM machine.* "Hmmm?"  
  
"What, Alfred?"  
  
"Just thinking, Master Dick."  
  
Alfred turned to the tray and began slicing the cake. Again, Bruce's voice came to him. *Designed to induce specific wave patterns in the sleeper's brain...* Alfred placed a slice on a small saucer and handed it to Dick.  
  
Alfred thought back to the time he and Bruce visited a health resort for one of Batman's cases. *It could see my thoughts, Alfred...Sir, the Joker, Two-Face, and The Penguin have just arrived with large quantities of cash!...So that's it! He's not planning to blackmail me, he's going to auction my tape!* "Good heavens. Doctor Strange."  
  
CHAPTER SIX  
  
Bruce could hear the bickering from the top of the stairs.  
  
"Alfred, that's crazy! Even *I* would have been fooled!"  
  
"Master Dick-"  
  
"You've known Bruce his whole life and I bet, had you not known it was me disguised as Bruce, you wouldn't have been able to tell the difference!"  
  
"Actually, Young Sir, I would have."  
  
"What?! No way! How?!"  
  
"Master Bruce has a small scar above his left eyebrow. He got it when he fell against the corner of the coffee table in the den at the age of three."  
  
Dick's jaw hung open.  
  
"What brought this up?" Bruce asked coming down the last few steps.  
  
Both men turned to look at him. "Alfred thinks the person who broke Tetch out is Doctor Strange," Dick replied.  
  
Bruce turned to Alfred, puzzled. "What makes you think that, Alfred?"  
  
"Shares a similar field with the Mad Hatter. Is obsessed with Batman's true identity. Once had Batman's true identity...On FILM, Sir. Is not well liked by the Joker and broke out of prison two months ago, if I'm not mistaken."  
  
Bruce went pale. He shook his head, looking dumbfounded. "Of course," he muttered to himself. "Why didn't I see it earlier?"  
  
"Perhaps...You had other things on your mind, Master Bruce," Alfred replied, sympathetically.  
  
"That's no excuse," Bruce ground out. "I should have been able to put it all together!"  
  
"Wait a second. We don't have any solid proof that it's Strange," Dick reminded. "Granted, Alfred has a few points, but until we know for sure, we can't put all our eggs in one basket."  
  
"There's one person who can help with that," Bruce said, as he headed to the costume vault.  
  
CHAPTER SEVEN  
  
"I don't care who the hell you are! You can't just come in here demanding to see patients! It's three o'clock in the morning!"  
  
Batman stepped closer to the intern, towering over him. "The Joker knows the identity of the person responsible for breaking Jervis Tetch out of here, the death of one of your guards, and injury of two others. Now..." Batman's eye-slits narrowed and his voice delved to a low rumble. "Take me to him!"  
  
Whatever courage the intern had possessed, quickly vanished and he fumbled for the keys. "It's ah...um...this way."  
  
***  
  
"It's Strange isn't it?" Batman asked from the shadows of the small cell.  
  
"What is? You?" Joker snickered and rolled his eyes. "Of COURSE you're strange." His words tittered off as he leaned on the wall.  
  
Batman glared. "Doctor Hugo Strange," he growled. "It was Strange who broke Tetch out?"  
  
"Maybe." Joker wiggled a little in his straight jacket. "What do I get out of it if I tell you?"  
  
Batman stood silent, contemplating the Joker's question. Then, ever so slightly, his eyes narrowed menacingly and he allowed a grin to form on his lips. "The real question is..." Batman moved closer to the Joker and bent down so he was practically nose to pale nose. "What will I do to you, if you *don't* tell me." Batman allowed his last words to hold a dangerous edge.  
  
Joker grinned slowly and then chuckled, rubbing his nose in against Batman's. "You ARE the dangerous one, aren't you?"  
  
Batman backed away a little, still holding the Joker's gaze. "I'm not the one in the straight jacket," he deadpanned.  
  
"That doesn't make you any less dangerous," Joker whispered. "But, because you're my favorite person, I'll tell you: Yes. It's the lovely doctor."  
  
Batman stood. "You want him, don't you? That's why you're helping me. You, the Penguin and Two-Face. You want revenge?"  
  
"No, silly!" Joker fell over sideways laughing. "I want you!" He laughed all the harder, his cheeks slowly turning a darker shade. "Don't you get it?!" Biting his tongue, he managed to squeak out, "I'm only helping you because you'll put Strange away where he belongs! That way - we can play OUR little run-around, again!"  
  
Batman felt the anger rising within his very soul. The once placid look upon his face fell to a scowl. He bent down in front of the Joker again, and in a tone that could shake the very walls of hell spoke: "One day....the game WILL end, Joker. I will stop you. Whatever the cost." And with that, Batman stood and left.  
  
Joker stuck out his tongue and giggled to himself. "As if!"  
  
CHAPTER EIGHT  
  
"Computer, run background file on Doctor Hugo Strange," Dick commanded.  
  
"Searching..." The computer responded, flashing various lights on the console and making systematic beeping noises. "Doctor Hugo Strange. Alias: Doctor Victor Absonus. Occupation: Psychiatrist/Professional Criminal. Area of operations: Gotham City, New Jersey. Current status: Escaped. Yet to be apprehended."  
  
Dick steepled his fingers. "Computer...run background file on Jervis Tetch."  
  
"Searching......"  
  
"Master Dick? Would you care for a cup of tea, Young Sir?" Alfred asked as he poured a cup.  
  
"Thank you, Alfred."  
  
The older man handed Dick the cup and saucer, then poured another cup for himself. "Any luck, Sir?" Alfred sat down next to his young charge and sipped his tea.  
  
Dick mumbled something unintelligible as the computer displayed a picture of Tetch.  
  
"Jervis Tetch. Alias: The Mad Hatter. Occupation: Scientist/Professional Criminal. Area of operations: Gotham City, New Jersey. Current status: Unknown."  
  
"Unknown? Hm. I see Bruce hasn't been able to update Tetch's file yet."  
  
"He has been rather...preoccupied, Master Dick."  
  
"Yeah. I noticed." Dick hit one of the function keys bringing Doctor Strange's image back to the screen. "Something about this case is eating him, Alfred." Dick deliberately worded the phrase so it could be taken as a comment or a question.  
  
"Master Dick, Master Bruce is entitled to his privacy."  
  
"Does that mean you know what it is?"  
  
Alfred merely raised a scrutinizing eyebrow at Dick and took another sip of his tea.  
  
"In that case, when you ~don't~ talk to him about whatever it ~isn't~ about..." Dick looked over at Alfred. "Just let him know I'm here for him, too."  
  
Alfred allowed one corner of his mouth to quirk up to a half smile. "I'll be sure ~not~ to let him know, Sir."  
  
Dick turned back to the computer and scanned through the rest of Strange's file, then switched the screen back to Tetch. Halfway down the screen he stopped. "What the...?"  
  
"What is it?" Alfred asked, setting his tea cup down.  
  
Dick quickly highlighted a section of Tetch's background file then switched the screen over to Doctor Strange's file. He scanned down the page then stopped, highlighting the section. "Look." Dick pointed to the screen.  
  
Alfred sat forward and read aloud: "Professor of Psychiatry at MIT, nineteen-seventy-six to nineteen-eighty-four."  
  
"Now look." Dick pressed a key on the console and Tetch's highlighted section came up.  
  
"Studied at MIT, nineteen-seventy-three to nineteen-eighty. Studies included: psychiatry under Professor Victor Ab--Oh, my word!"  
  
"There's our connection."  
  
CHAPTER NINE  
  
"You are absolutely certain this is working?" A heavily accented voice said from behind a disheveled blond head.  
  
"Oh, tut, tut!" The blond scolded. "Of course it's working!"  
  
"It had better be!" Thick sunglasses were pushed further up the man's nose by his heavy finger.  
  
"Keep your temper. Everything is going according to your plan." The blond adjusted a few dials attached to a console set on the table in front of him, then, he resettled a red metal brim he wore around his head. "However...curiouser and curiouser it is to me, as to why it is I had to pick he?" The blond pointed to an image in a newspaper clipping.  
  
"All in good time, my friend. By tomorrow night you shall have your revenge." The stubby man turned away from the blond and clapped his hands together. "And I shall have mine......Batman."  
  
***  
  
"He doesn't care about getting revenge?! The Joker?!" Dick asked in disbelief.  
  
"So he says," Bruce responded, settling himself down in his chair by the main computer.  
  
"That doesn't make any sense. Even for the Joker. Strange cost him millions. Granted they weren't HIS millions, but still--"  
  
"I think Joker is playing a bigger part than he's letting on. He gave in too easily." Bruce swiveled around in the chair and brought up records from Arkham Asylum.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"Seeing if Joker's had any visitors in the last two months. A Victor Absonus, perhaps."  
  
"Heh. That would be interesting." Dick stifled a yawn.  
  
"You should get some rest," Bruce said, not even looking at his ward.  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"It's half-past four in the morning, Dick." Bruce looked up. "Go on. I'll fill you in on anything I find later."  
  
"What about you? You've got to be tired?"  
  
"No. Go to bed, Dick." Bruce tried to give the younger man a smile, but it came off more as a frown.  
  
"You sure?"  
  
Bruce nodded.  
  
"Kay. Night."  
  
Once Dick was gone, Bruce turned back to the computer. He typed in a few codes and, within seconds, the visitor's record sheet was displayed on the screen.  
  
***  
  
Soft carousel music played in the background.  
  
It was a bright sunny day. The sound of the ocean waves could be heard crashing against the rocks far below the stately Wayne Manor. On the back terrace, a happy family of three, mother, father, and son, sat eating breakfast.  
  
After a few minutes, the father and son stood, and the child suddenly let out a cry of delight as the father began chasing him.  
  
"I'm gonna get you!" The father boomed playfully.  
  
The little boy stuck his tongue out at his father, giggled, and ran closer to the house.  
  
An older man, dressed in a black uniform and bowtie, stepped through the tall French doors. He had thinning black hair and a mustache. With him, he carried a silver tray that held a pitcher of lemonade and some glasses of ice. His eyes suddenly went wide upon seeing the boy running toward him, the father in hot pursuit.  
  
With a giggle and shriek, the boy dodged behind the uniform clad man. "Save me, Alfred!" The little boy grabbed ahold of the dress coat tails of Alfred's uniform.  
  
"Good heavens, Master Bruce!"  
  
"Oh, no, don't think Alfred's gonna save you!" The father held a big smile on his face and began wiggling his fingers. He bent down to Bruce's height and reached behind Alfred's legs, trying to tickle the boy.  
  
Bruce shrieked some more.  
  
"Master Thomas!" Alfred scolded, holding the tray up higher so his employer wouldn't knock it out of his hands.  
  
Suddenly, Bruce let go of Alfred and ran into the house, laughing. Thomas stood and looked at his friend. "Sorry, Alfred, old man, but I have business to tend to!" He put on a mischievous grin, wiggled his fingers and slipped past the man.  
  
Alfred turned, watching as father and son ran through the kitchen and out of sight. He couldn't help but smile.  
  
"Hey, no fair hiding!" Thomas whined as he looked around the study.  
  
Bruce giggled and jumped out from behind a statue, tackling his father. The two of them rolled around on the floor tickling each other.  
  
The sun light in the room dimmed, as did Thomas' laughter. Bruce looked up at his father. The smile Bruce had been wearing faded and he turned pale.  
  
The man above him was no longer his father, but a ghostly shadow with glowing red eyes.  
  
Bruce's physique altered from child to adult.  
  
Thunder roared overhead.  
  
"Gonnaaaaa get youuuuu," the shadow whispered in a slow and ominous bass voice.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Bruce saw Alfred walk passed the study doors. "Alfred........Alfred! ALFRED!"  
  
***  
  
"Yes, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked, as he descended the stairs into the cave carrying a tray of coffee and toast. He couldn't see Bruce's face, only the back of the black leather desk chair.  
  
"Alfred," Bruce slurred.  
  
Alfred furrowed his brows and set the tray down before walking over to the chair. "Master Bruce, what is-" Alfred stopped, noticing Bruce was sound asleep.  
  
Bruce suddenly jumped and flung himself forward, snapping his eyes open. "Alfred!"  
  
Quickly, Alfred grabbed Bruce's shoulders, stopping the younger man from going face first into the computer.  
  
Bruce gripped Alfred's forearms and stared at him, panicked. 'Alfred! He's gonna! He's...D-don't let him!" Bruce shook his head fiercely. "Don't let him get me! Please, Alfred! Don't!...don't..."  
  
Alfred was startled, to say the least, at the sudden outburst. "Bruce, it's alright! I'm here! I won't let him get you!" He pulled the frightened man into his arms and held him. "It was just a bad dream. It's alright now," he soothed, rubbing Bruce's back.  
  
Bruce held on tightly to the older man, shaking, as sweat poured from his forehead.  
  
After a few moments and some deep breaths, Bruce relaxed and pulled back. "I'm fine. I'm alright, now." He leaned into the chair, closing his eyes.  
  
Alfred knelt down beside him and rested his hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Bruce, are you su-"  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"Do you want t-"  
  
"No."  
  
Alfred sighed. "Bruce..." He reached up and gently pushed the sweat drenched bangs away from Bruce's eyes.  
  
Bruce opened his eyes and looked down at his shaken friend. "It's okay, Alfred. I'm alright. Sorry I scared you."  
  
"I'm not so sure it was I who was scared, Bruce."  
  
Bruce looked at Alfred. "Your eyes betray you, old friend."  
  
Alfred raised an eyebrow. "As do yours."  
  
"Touché."  
  
Alfred half smiled. "What happened, Bruce?"  
  
There was no use trying to avoid the question. Alfred would get it out of him one way or another. He always had. But this was a little different. The last time Bruce remembered having a nightmare like this, he was much younger. Alfred would gather him up in his strong, protective arms, place him on his lap and hold him close while Bruce told him everything. It was so easy to tell Alfred his deepest, darkest troubles and secrets when he felt safe and loved.  
  
As if he had spoken his thoughts aloud, and Alfred had heard him, Bruce felt himself being pulled into another hug. A warm, caring hand began to gently caress the back of his neck, and Bruce sighed, closing his eyes and resting his head on his friends shoulder.  
  
"Now, my boy," Alfred whispered, "can you tell me what happened?"  
  
"My father and I were playing in the backyard. He chased me into the house and turned into...something." Bruce shook his head, trying to remember the details. "Red eyes. It had red eyes. It attacked me. You walked by and I called to you for help. It...told me it was going to get me."  
  
"It? You said 'he' earlier."  
  
Bruce shook his head. "I don't know, Alfred. But I have this terrible feeling I know what it...or he is. It's not the same as it used to be. This is worse."  
  
To be continued... 


	3. Return To The Night Part 3

CHAPTER TEN  
  
"You know what to do?" The stubby man asked as he finished typing some notes into the computer system.  
  
"Of course! I'm not the benighted student I once was! Most of my skills have even surpassed yours!" the blond shot back with venomous contempt.  
  
"Calm yourself," The stubby man said, waving the other man off. "I want this to go EXACTLY as we planned." The words rolled off his heavily accented tongue. "I'm being cautious. The Bat is more resoursful than I thought he was. I won't underestimate his skills again. Now, one last time..."  
  
The blond sighed with irritation and crossed his arms. "Wait 'till he goes back to his room and has made the phone call BEFORE activating the chip, than have him drive me back here to load the equipment." The blond sighed again. "I've got it, you bumbling walrus!"  
  
"Do not take that tone with me!" The smaller man growled, standing up. "The Bat fooled me last time, and would have gotten away with it if he'd thought to destroy ALL the tapes. If it wasn't for the one made of his butler's interrogation..." he trailed off. "Make sure you don't screw up! I am THIS close!" he said, holding up his hand and parting his thumb and index finger by a few centimeters. "He nearly got me killed! I OWE him!"  
  
The blonde only stared at the older man with a neutral expression before turning to leave. "Just as long as I get what I want out of this deal."  
  
"Don't worry, my Mad friend...You shall have it."  
  
***  
  
The clock entrance clicked open and Bruce Wayne emerged into the study, glancing at a few printouts. The clock automatically swung shut behind him as he made his way over to his desk.  
  
"Damn. Nothing," Bruce grumbled, slamming the papers down on top of the desk.  
  
"Am I to gather you have not found what you were looking for?" Alfred asked as he stepped into the room carrying a tray with a cup of coffee.  
  
"No." Bruce shook his head. "Did Dick leave yet?"  
  
Alfred nodded. "Yes, Sir. He did go down to say goodbye..."  
  
Bruce grumbled something Alfred was unable to make out. "I meant to go over this stuff with him, like I said I would." He rubbed at his face, trying to shake the sleepiness out of his eyes.  
  
"I'm sure you did," Alfred offered gently. "But, you've become so engrossed in your work, lately, you may not have noticed he was even there. Perhaps you should get some sleep, Bruce." He handed the younger man the cup.  
  
Bruce reached out. "Tha--" Than he stopped, analyzing what Alfred had just said, and starred at the proffered cup. "I'll only drink that if you drink some of it first."  
  
Alfred looked aghast. "I beg your pardon, Master Bruce?"  
  
Bruce crossed his arms and set them on the desk, glaring up at Alfred. "You heard me. If there is nothing but coffee in that cup, why shouldn't you?"  
  
Alfred looked at the cup, then at Bruce. "Because it is unsanitary to drink from another person's cup," he deadpanned.  
  
"Alfred, we've exchanged blood, I hardly think a little spit is going to harm me." He continued to sit there, waiting.  
  
Finally, Alfred set the cup back on the tray, scooped it up and stalked out of the room, mumbling something to himself.  
  
Bruce couldn't help but smile. God love Alfred. He always meant well, but right now, slipping Bruce sedatives in his coffee was not going to happen. There was far too much that needed to be done. And that feeling he'd had back in the cave after the dream... He leaned back in the chair and steepled his fingers, thinking. *What did the Joker have to do with all this?* 


End file.
